


Life, Death & The Boy With a Straw Hat

by JayDPopsX



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, One Piece - Freeform, One Piece Back Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayDPopsX/pseuds/JayDPopsX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based around the Present Day Storyline of 'One Piece' (Concider the most resent Manga of 'One Piece' to be Present Day).<br/>This Fan-Fic is telling the story of (in Chapters 1 & 2) '66'/ (as named in Chapter 4) Bella.<br/>Covering the past 16 years of her life; After escaping from a secret World Government run organisation named 'Mercury' (TMP, 'The Mercury Project') at 5-years-old, Bella begins her life after finding refuge with a Pirate crew that later introduce her to Luffy, a young boy with a huge dream; to become The King of the Pirates. Bella makes it her goal in life to become stronger so that one day she can help him on his journey and make his dream a reality. With the help from her adoptive family and the use of her Devil Fruit Powers 'Shinigami-Shinigami no mi'/ 'Shi-Shi no mi' a 'Mythical Zoan Type' that gives her God-Like powers; Bella faces several obstacles along the way; The World Government, Marines, Pirates, Bounty Hunters and even her own sanity. Read on as Bella learns about Life, Death & The Boy With a Straw Hat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 66

\- [1] –

The debris lay scattered around the base of the pit, like several shattered pieces of glass piled on top of a forgotten wreckage; many of the fragments were sharp and jagged which regularly stabbed, scratched and cut into the bottoms of 66’s feet, causing this unstable flooring to become bespattered with her blood. The air within it had become thick smog, which was concocted by the vulgar smells of stale vomit, urine and excrement’s. The pit was old; dating back at least 400 years; the bottom that originally based it had been swallowed up by the many years of discarded waste that had been carelessly disposed of down there. It was around 10ft wide giving 66 plenty of room to move, however regardless of its size the base would never be touched by the sunlight; excluding on sunny days when the sun would pass over the pit, shining down it for only an hour before passing over the other side of the rim. The same applied during the night time, when there was a clear sky and the moonlight would shine down illuminating 66’s pale skin. However, the island was not favourable for hot weather and most of the days would be clouded over, with either thick rain clouds or fog. Because if this 66 spent most of her time in the dark; she has become so accustomed to the darkness that her eyes have developed the ability to see almost clearly in the dark, so the lack of light eventually didn't make much of a difference to her.

Her hair was frail and lifeless like that of an elderly man or woman, its natural colour had become hidden underneath years of neglect, mistreat and abandonment. There wasn't much of her, her body was gravely pallor and at only 5-years-old her skin was almost untouched by the sunlight, she modelled a near ghostly appearance. Besides her wounds, the only thing that marks her body is the number “66” which is tattooed onto her right wrist in black ink. She was so malnourished that her bones almost pierced through her skin, no fat, nor muscle to give her any sort of a healthy glow, all there was, was a feeble child in desperate need of help.

Every once in a while, a small blue canister was thrown down the pit clanking as it landed by 66’s feet; it would beep 5 times before releasing a strong smelling gas that hissed as it filled the bottom of the pit with its contents. It would make her feel nauseous, objects became fuzzy and it was hard to see whether things were close by or far away. She would stumble around for a few minutes before her body would become incredibly numb and her legs would buckle underneath her. She’d fall heavily onto the ground, most of the time she’d her head as she did so; if the fall didn't cause her to pass out, normally after a few more minutes, her eyes would slowly close until she was almost or completely unconscious. Every so often she would open her eyes slightly, seeing something different every time; the first time she opened them a tall figure, dressed in a long white coat and wearing a black mask over his face was standing beside her talking to a small object placed in the palm of his hand, the second time she’d open them she’d be laying on a hard, cold, metal table being wheeled into a room full of bright lights and several conversing voices, the voices came from more people that were dressed in the same white coats as the one before, holding clipboards or sheets of paper in their hands, observing x-rays and reviewing their ‘findings’. Other times she’d open her eyes, and several parts of her body would be writhing in excruciating agony, she’d try to move but either her body wouldn't respond, or she’d be tightly bound to the bed unable to move an inch let alone escape. For the most part they would ignore her cries, other times they would place a mask over her face, forcing her to sleep. Her heart rate would raise drastically and she’d become incredibly distressed, the agonising pain would travel throughout her body, it would mostly consist of stabbing pains like knives piercing into her body, or several sharp prickling or piercing sensations as they would make incisions or give her injections or take her blood. She’d cry out, screaming in agony trying to ask them for help begging them to stop, but the people in white would simply wipe away the tears and continue with the torture.

This was all she knew of life, but that did not make her fear it any less. Every day she’d awaken wishing for a better life, hoping for a decent future even though she had no idea of the possibilities life had to offer her. 66 grew to fear the blue canisters, for she knew that the inevitable pain and torture was soon approaching. She’d try to scramble away from it, try to reach higher ground in an attempt to escape its fumes, but to no avail. She grew to fear the people in white coats, fear injections, fear pain, fear blood, she became an almost embodiment of fear itself. She was so frightened, and so alone; because no one listened to her cries, nor did they care for the feelings trapped behind them, they’d push her body beyond its limits, push her mentality passed breaking point, they dragged her into the very palms of the Devils clutch, leaving her without a shred hope for escape or even a chance of salvation in sight.

The summer had been a long one; it was filled with several hot days where she would bask in the hour a day of sunlight, enjoying what little she had in life. She loves the sun and the heat it gives off, the summer is her favourite time of the year. The sun would only pass over the mouth of the pit of an hour a day, but that hour was sacred to her and she would lay on her back bathing in its warmth, taking it all in, it was like a comfort to her as if the sun were her only friend. Once that hour was over and the sun passed back over the rim, the pit would once again drag her back into the depths of darkness.

As the island fell into autumn, the nights began to grow cold and the days became less favourable due to heavy rainfall. Because of the decrepit state of the pit there wasn't much left of it above ground; several of the stone bricks that lined the mouth were still visible, whilst the rest had completely eroded away down to the ground. They’d recently disposed of large wooden beams that had become covered in spikes and wrapped in splinters. When the heavy rain of autumn fell; dirty, swamp like water would gush into the pit like an unstoppable force of nature, forcing 66 onto higher ground, she’d have no choice but to venture higher onto the hazardous pieces of wreckage. Unable to swim, she’d wade it out as the water level would rise almost completely engulfing her under water; it would normally subside when it reached around her neck, although at times she’d have to push her head above the water just enough so that her nose or mouth were raised beyond the increasing water level, she would gasp for air, coughing and spitting out the murky water as it would pour into her mouth every time she opened it trying to fight for air.

Autumn had passed and the winter snow had begun to settle, the nights had become cold and almost unbearable, and the rain had stopped almost completely and was instead replaced with heavy snow. She hadn't seen the people in white coats for some time, they’d only taken her out of the pit twice throughout the entire autumn and not at all in the winter so far, not that she complained. She’d normally be able to hear their voices in the distance above the surface, but even they were heard less regularly. Instead they had begun to be replaced with the horrific cries of rage and aggressive shouts roaring loud reaching up to the heavens, the usual quiet atmosphere of the island became filled with loud eruptions of battle cries and explosions. Chunks of debris and dirt clods would come flying down the pit, smashing into pieces as they collided with the jagged wreckage below, hitting 66 across her face and beating against her already broken and fragile body; using only her frail arms to shelter her head, she pushed herself up against the side of the pit hoping it would protect her somehow. The pieces would continue to fall throughout the day and night, continuously for several days and several nights, the entirety of winter was filled with fiery explosions that illuminated the sky, screams of dying men would repeatedly erupt in the distance. All of these things became more and more frequent as the days passed, she became more scared and alone than ever before but all she could do was cover her ears, curl up into herself and cower in fear.

At one point, a loud explosion was let off on the island filling the sky with fire, even in the pit where she was sat 66 could feel the heat emanating from it, it was far hotter than anything she had ever felt before, and she liked it. The blast lasted for a few minutes, it brought with it several cries of agony and pain, you could feel the murderous intent it carried with it in the atmosphere but the sounds of countless lives ending gave 66 almost a sick sense of satisfaction. The chaos continued without a pause for weeks on end, until eventually the land fell into a dead silence. The voices disappeared, the explosions stopped and the rage and anger that filled the air dissipated. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing, and the racing, pounding thud of her fragile beating heart.

The further the island fell into winter the more chill and brittle the air became, no one had spoken to her for a long time, and she hadn't heard anything from above resembling any form of life. In the winter, the snow would lay a frozen carpet on the debris, making it harder for 66 to find a good footing. She didn't have any shoes to wear so every day she’d scoop the snow away from a stable spot on the floor with her hands, she would then either bounce on the spot or sit, curled into a tiny ball in an attempt to keep warm. Her hands and feet became numb from the intense cold conditions, they would become very red and at times even blue, and she would no longer be able to clench her fist nor bend a finger. She would have nothing to keep her warm, except the simple, dirty, off white ragged dress that loosely covered her small frame all year round; in a bid to stay warm she would tuck her legs and arms into the dress cradling herself, she’d drift off to sleep dreaming of the summer sun.

As the winter began to gradually come to an end, 66 began to feel completely isolated from the world. She became curious as to what laid beyond the pit, beyond the life she’d been living all this time. Although she had been imprisoned there for as long as she could remember, 66 had never once thought to climb out or even attempted an escape; however, as the island had become silent and she had had no contact with anyone for quite some time, she felt as though she needed to find a way out, or else she may never come out again. She looked over the sides of the pit intently; there were several cracks and holes dotted all around her; she scanned the brickwork, planning her route. After a few short moments and mapping out her chosen path in her head, she took in a sharp intake of breath, she mustered up all her courage as she grabbed a hold of the brickwork, and began to climb up the side of the pit.

It was tiresome for her right from the start; her arms were already weak so they would shake uncontrollably, her knees wobbled as she pushed herself further up the wall. She was determined to reach the top, she wanted to see for herself what else there was out there, to see that there was more to life than the bright lights, endless torture and the monsters in the white coats. As she reached around the half-way point, one of the old bricks above her crumbled away in her hand as she grabbed hold of it; her heart shot into her mouth while she gasped in shock, she’d lost her grip and had found herself suddenly slipping away from the wall, falling back down to the shattered ground below, pieces of the scattered debris scratched and pierced the skin on her hands and up her arms as she’d stretched them out beneath her, in hopes of breaking her fall. She landed with a thud, followed by the sounds of wood breaking and metal clanking around her; a thin layer of dust rose from the wreckage causing 66 to cough, her long hair caught on a piece of debris. She grabbed a hold of it, tugging at it gently but it wouldn't come free, in a sudden outburst of anger she pulled at it, ripping several strands of hair out in the process. There was no wind at the bottom of the pit so the strands of hair gracefully fell until they were hanging loosely off the edge of the debris, after untangling her head hair; she took the lost hair and held it in her hands looking down at it as her eyes began tearing up. She’d never thought about her hair, never brushed it or tied it back, never even seen what it was like apart from what was in her eye sight, for she had never seen her own reflection; she did not know what colour her eyes were, if her cheeks were rosy or if she had a nice smile. She’d never had a reason to wonder these things, but in this moment, as she stared at the thin lock of her in her hands she wondered. Clutching her hand into a fist, she threw the hair onto the floor and looked up at the sky; her eyes gleamed with a stern look of unwavering determination.

She started again, grabbed a hold of the wall choosing a slightly different route from before, bearing in mind the loose brick work that lay ahead. She began to once more climb up the side of the pit, to once more attempt to climb to freedom, so that she could one day look at her reflection and see herself for the first time. It was going well, she had made it a little below where she had fallen before, but the bricks continued to break up in her hands, her foot slipped due to this, causing her to lose her grip and once again fall to the ground below. It was becoming harder as time went on, as the temperature was decreasing dramatically and the snow was beginning to fall. Her hands and feet became increasingly numb from the cold and it was becoming harder for her to clench her hands into fists, or even bend them a little bit to hook into the brickwork. She continued to try to climb out but as time when on she was making less and less progress, every time she’d get so far and then come crashing down, landing on the frozen, rotten, carpet of waste and sharp debris below.

66 had never felt like this before, the flow of relentless tenacity that was channelling throughout her body was so rejuvenating. For so long she hadn't even contemplated the thought of escape and here she was, fighting for it repeatedly. Several times she began to scale up the wall and several times she would come crashing back down. Time after time landing on the debris below, dust filled her lungs more and more, making her sneeze and cough heavier every time. But she wasn't going to give up, she had made her resolve and she was not going to give up no matter how many times she was going to fall down.

Night fell, she had made countless attempts to reach the top but her body and the weather made it harder and harder for her. She decided to call it a day; her body had become so numb that she could no longer feel her hands or feet; they had become blistered and cracked, weeping with blood. She struggled to walk as she made her way over to a clearer spot in the wreckage where she’d decided to make her home for the night, some of the lumber had fallen across creating a shelter over the clearing, preventing the snow from being able to fall there and settle, she clambered in and wrapped herself into a tight quivering ball underneath her clothes on the dirty, cold floor. She tucked her hands into her lap trying to warm them up; her breath was so thick in the cold it looked like smoke. While she still shivered, she slowly closed her eyes whilst picturing the sun and imagined the warmth that she yearned to once again feel upon her frozen skin.


	2. The Wasteland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 66 (Bella), a 5-year-old girl that has been a part of a World Government experiment called Mercury, has begun her treacherous escape from The Pit; a large hole in the ground that she has called 'home' for as long as she can remember. Unsure on what dangers lie ahead of her at the top, she still continues on; pursuing her dream of finding her freedom. Will she escape? Read on to find out...

\- [2] -

The following morning as soon as she woke up, she began her attempt to escape once again; she did so continuously throughout the weeks that followed. She spent almost the entirety of her day scaling the wall in hopes of attaining freedom; she’d only stop when her body became completely numb and wouldn't let her climb any further. As the days pressed on, so did her progression, she found that she was gradually reaching further and further up the pit, be it only a small amount at a time. She began to fall less frequently and had made more distance the more she tried; even her wounds seemed to heal a lot faster. It wasn't before long when 66 realised that every time she fell, it was becoming less and less painful for her, her cuts were healing within a few hours, and her bruises were fading within minutes. She wasn't sure what was making this happen, but she didn't let her curiosities sway her from her goal. 

After countless weeks of climbing and falling, she continued to climb; managing to overcome strong urges to give up whenever she failed. Eventually, she came to realise that she was getting closer and closer to the top and that she had made it so far that she was only a few feet away from the edge. She paused for a moment, staring at the rim of the pit; her heartbeat began to rise, she could feel it pounding against her chest as her body starting to fill with anticipation, she was almost there, she was so close she could almost smell the freshness of the air from above. It wasn't going to smell vile or rotten like the air she was used to, it was going to smell clear and rejuvenating. She looked up at the sky, it was grey and clouded over as though it were about to rain, but it didn't matter to her, she had never seen the sky look so big before, she was so close to it that she could see the clouds shifting right before her eyes.

After taking it all in, she reached out to grab at another brick, as she held onto it, it shattered in her hand. Her heart sank and her eyes filled with tears; she was so near to the top that she could almost feel the freedom embracing her. She reached out desperately trying to grab a hold of the wall once again, she didn't want to fall back down, and she didn't want to have to start all over again. Reaching out she successfully managed to cling onto a jagged brick that had started to slide away from the wall. Fortunately for her it was still lodged in the wall just deep enough to take her tender weight. She stopped with a thud as her body flung heavily against the wall; she let out a small ‘oof’ as she made impact against it. She’d managed to catch herself just before passing the halfway point; she regained her footing in a small crack in the wall that was just wide enough for her to slip a few her tiny toes into. 

Her feet were once again becoming numb from the cold, they’d started to crack and bleed slightly where the dust from the debris had dried them out. Her hands were starting to feel the same; it had become much harder for her to hold onto the side as her fatigue was beginning to set in. Her arms were out stretched, because she was still holding onto the jagged brick she’d caught herself with. She pulled, lifting her face upwards towards her hands. Once her face was only a few inches away from her hands, she removed her toes from the crack in the wall and found new footing further up. Quivering from the cold 66 lent over a breathed heavily on her hands, the warmth was felt quickly and her skin started to prickle slightly as the blood started to heat up in her hands. She breathed again, her hands started feeling like several small pins and needles were gently pricking her skin. She breathed again, as she did so this time something caught her eye; when she looked closely, she could see that a paper cut sized wound on the back of one of the fingers on her right hand had begun to heal itself right before her eyes; sealing it up until no mark remained, not a scar a dent to be seen; it was as if someone had simply zipped it up like a coat.

In shock from this strange event, 66 looked perplexed at her hand. After affirming a strong enough grip onto the brick with her left hand she let go with her right so she could inspect it further. She observed her hand and where the cut once was, however the dimly lit environment made it difficult to see, regardless of her improved eyesight. She could feel her left hand starting to lose its grip, so she returned her right hand in order to prevent falling. She started twisting and turning her hands it as much as she could whilst they were still holding on. She searched for other wounds across her body that may have been doing the same, however it appeared as though this was the only one to do so. She scanned over as much of her legs and her feet as she could; but from the angle she was at, pressed up against the wall, it was hard to see anything clearly. She decided to continue on, postpone her curiosities for the being and remain focused on the task at hand.

Climbing further and further up the side she went becoming closer and closer to attaining her dream of freedom. Suddenly it dawned on her; she hadn't given a second thought as to what life would be like for her on the surface; would she be safe? Would there be a life waiting out there for her? Or would there only be more pain and more suffering? All these thoughts flowed throughout her mind like mouse trapped in a maze, with no idea of where to find the exit. She didn't let it stop her, as she continued on climbing further and further up the side of the pit; until before she knew it,

She had reached the top.

Her finger tips we rested over the surface, she was literally holding onto the edge of what she had hoped would one day be her salvation. Her heart sat heavily in her throat as it pounded ferociously; the churning feeling of vomit began rising from her stomach from the excitement, it became almost overwhelming. She tightened her grip on the edge of the pit; one hand was held onto a small rock that was protruding from the ground, whilst her other hand was grounded in a clod of dirt. She pulled, lifting out her forearms she pinned them against the ground in order to gain a good anchorage whilst she caught her breath. Her arms had become increasingly weak from the countless days of climbing that they shook vigorously as she hauled her weight upwards. After a few deep breaths, she extended out her arms one at a time, taking a hold of further out dirt clods, stones and debris, she continued to pull. Her head had now emerged from the pit; she reached out again, grabbing a hold of a small metal pole that stood erect out of the ground in her left hand, and another raised dirt clod in her right, pulling her body almost completely out. With a few exhausted kicks, she continued dragging herself out using all her remaining might. With a few cries of pain from exhaustion she let out one final burst of determination, and with that she managed to pull herself completely out, freeing herself from the clutches of the hell that she knew.

Exhausted, 66 laid on her back looking up at the sky, a few droplets of rain spat on her face as a light shower started to fall. It started soaking through her tattered rags, slowly her entire body became more and more wet droplet by droplet, but she didn't care. It was almost as if the heavens were cleansing her body of all the pain and suffering she’d endured throughout all her short life so far. Her body had become so tired from the climb that it had become unresponsive, but it didn't bother her either. All that mattered was that she had managed to successfully escape from the pit, with the hopes of never having to return there again. She raised her right hand, resting it across her face so it covered her eyes, she began to laugh silently under her breath until she could no longer hold it in, as she suddenly exploded into a wild cackle like an excited hyena; she’d never felt like this before, and she’d certainly never laughed before; she’d never had any reason to. As she laughed she felt as though she was drifting into insanity but for now, she allowed it. Her whole life she had dreamt of this moment, and here at long last she was finally free. She laughed so hard, her entire body shook from the vigorous movement coming from her diaphragm. The laughed was cut short however, when her laughter turned into crying; but she did not shed tears of sadness, they were tears of joy, she was simply so overwhelmed by it all that it brought her to tears. 

After a long while she eventually managed to compose herself somewhat, she slowly clambered onto her feet; whilst gently rubbing the tears away from her eyes and brushing as much of the mud as she could off of her sodden rags, she looked around. All she could see for miles was the repercussions of a war zone, no trees, no plant life, and no buildings; only a thick dusty later of rubble that consisted of rocks and debris carpeted this baron wasteland. The air was dense filled with a dark green smoke, the smell of rot, mould and burning filled the air like a plague, it was bone chilling. The earth in several places was scarred with the aftermath of several explosions, splattered with blood and ash. The sun was still hidden, tucked beneath the clouds; but she could just make out where it was in the sky, at that moment she decided to walk in its direction. It was around the middle of the afternoon, so she knew it wouldn't pass over her head for the time being, therefore so it would work as a suitable point for her to follow. 

Although her body ached from exhaustion and her legs had grown increasingly tired she chose not to rest. The debris that carpeted the floor made walking challenging beneath her shaking legs as she found it difficult to maintain her balance; it was hard against her bare feet, but she’d become so accustomed to the jagged base of the pit that it made very little difference to her. She continued making her way in the direction of the sun, the rain had completely stopped now but the sky was still very dark and gloomy with only small bursts of sunlight managing to pierce through the clouds every few minutes. It felt as though she had been walking for miles now due to the increasing fatigue she felt with every step. She knew that it hadn't been long at all, because she could see that the sun had barely moved an inch in the sky. She stopped for a moment, turning to face were she had just walked; looking back she could still see that the pit was just a few hundred yards behind her; she decided then and there this that was the last time she would look back. She made a point of turning around completely, facing the pit and facing the past life she’d endured at her young age; she stood proudly with her back straight and her hands held strongly by either side of her; as though she were noble a conqueror, she admired her accomplishment. After a few moments of reflection she turned away for the what she hoped would be the final time, as started walking away towards her new life; carrying with her the hopes of never having to look back or return there again.

Seconds slowly became minutes and minutes gradually became hours; 66’s body grew more and more tired, as though the ground itself was draining her of all her energy. Most of the snow had either melted or been washed away by the rain over the past few days, so the ground wasn't too cold on her feet, although that did not stop them from becoming numb again; she held onto her arms trying to keep in as much of her body heat as she could, bringing them into herself while she walked. The sun had finally managed to creep out from behind the blockade of miserable grey clouds; however it was only a short while before sunset; and the sky had started to glow a magnificent crimson orange, that illuminated the sky like a roaring fire. Although the air was cold, there was a warm breeze that started to blow towards 66 from the direction of the sun; it was almost as if the sun itself wanted to pass its warmth onto her one last time to spur her on, before it tucked itself away for the night. The breeze brought with it a smell that was a little familiar to her, it smelt like rain; but it was a little more salty and carried with it a revitalising aroma. She stood still for a moment, pondering it over whilst she enjoyed the warmth it was wrapped up in. She never knew something could be so captivating, she was so drawn to it that she found herself wanting to venture out further than before and discover its source; determined to travel as far out as necessary in order to learn more about it. Fortunately, it came from the same direction as the setting sun and as it was going to disappear very soon, it seemed as though it was more logical to follow her nose from this point onwards.

She fumbled along as she made her way over to a large wall of broken debris and wreckage was only a short distance ahead of her. It had been piled up obscurely like it was some sort of make-shift barricade that had been assembled in a desperate hurry; it didn't appear to be very stable, plus large chucks of rubble crumbled away from it easily when 66 touched it. Taking a firm hold of a rock that was protruding from the side of the mound she started to scale up it, taking her time as she did so; it fell apart so easily whenever she tried to progress further towards the top, so she was sure to take her time. A short time had passed and she succeeded in her venture and had managed to reach the top. After regaining her footing a top of the mound she stood facing the setting sun, she looked in awe. The sight that lay in front of her eyes was one so beautiful that it will forever be etched in her memory; the crimson orange sky that she had seen a short time before had transformed into a beautiful mix of red, yellow and orange that blended together, like paint being swirled around in a bucket. The sun still peered over the horizon just enough to lay a soft carpet of light across the surface of the ocean, creating a beautiful shine that sparkled like the stars in the night sky; both the sky and the sea complimented each other perfectly. 

This was the first time she’d seen the ocean, and she couldn't have asked for a better view; although she didn't have a good knowledge of things on the outside, she knew that the ocean connected the islands around the world, so she was aware that in order to be able to say she was completely free she’d have to leave the island. She had already realised that she would need to find a suitable way of crossing the ocean, as she was unable to swim; however, she had no knowledge of sailing or raft building so she found herself at quite a disadvantage already. She decided to ignore the new obstacle she had come across for the time being and decided to head towards the shoreline and see what would come from it when she arrived there. Now knowing it was only a short walk away, 66 became more relaxed in her walk, the relief that she was progressing further in her quest for freedom made her feel more comfortable because she felt as though she didn't have to rush so much, as good things were slowly coming her way.

As she approached the beach she could see that the rubble and debris ended about a hundred yards from where the ocean met the shore; the ground was covered in white sand that was mixed together with small stones and burnt twigs. She took in a small breath as she stepped onto the soft sand, her small toes slipped underneath it slightly where it was so fine; she giggled to herself as she put her entire weight down onto the sand. It was strange to her as she had never felt something so soft touch her skin, the grains of sand tumbled through the gaps between her toes; like water down a river, as she walked across it. Once she was just a few inches away from feeling the ocean water on her feet, she stopped hesitantly, looking sharply to her left. She had heard something, a voice coming from a short way across the beach. 

Startled, 66 began slowly walking backwards towards the debris covered wasteland that lay behind her; she kept her eyes focused to her left where the sound had come from so abruptly. She filled with fear, what if these voices were from the men in white coats, and they were coming after her, trying to recapture her? She’d made it so far and she didn't want them to take her back. As she backed away further the voices began to rise and they drew closer to where she was stood. Scared and filling with the overwhelming feeling of dismay, 66 turned around and started to run towards the mound; she began to cry silently, her eyes filled with tears but she bit her lip to prevent herself from making any noise. After a heart pounding few moments, she’d managed to reach the mound; she climbed up it slipping slightly halfway, but she’d managed to regain her footing instantly and she successfully clambered over the top. She turned around; facing the shore keeping her body close to the mound as she did so. The sun had disappeared completely beyond the horizon, and the sky had become a dim orange glow. She looked down at the shoreline and saw that a large group of people had assembled on the beach only a short distance from where she was stood previously. A smaller group consisting of only 5 men had made their way to where she’d been standing only moments before, they were looking inland towards the mound where 66 was hiding. One of the men quickly pointed to the mound, causing 66 to panic as she quickly ducked down behind the tip of the mound, she listened intently,

‘Over there Boss, I thought I saw something climb over that pile of rubble’ a man shouted out, in a low masculine tone.

66 filled with fear, she’d been seen and there wasn't any way she could fight them off, especially not in her weakened state. The mound only stretched out either side of her by a few meters and the debris surrounding it was rather flat; therefore, if she ran either to the left or to the right; although she’d still be hidden from the larger group for the most part; she would be completely exposed to the smaller one. If she ran in the opposite direction, she’d end up back at the pit, forced to start her journey across the wasteland all over again. But in this instance, it seemed as though returning to the where the pit was her only suitable option and so with her direction of escape decided, she ran.


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping the Pit and successfully reaching the shore, 5-year-old 66 thought she had finally seen the back of her miserable and painful days, spent in the darkness of the Pit. However, her sense of freedom was cut short when a group of men suddenly appeared in the distance, forcing her to head back in the direction in which she came. Will she end up back where she started? What has fate got in store for her? Read on to find out...

\- [3] -

The over whelming feeling of fatigue continued to spread further and further throughout 66’s body as she ran; it felt as though she was being infected by an incurable disease that slowly sucked the air from her lungs; it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to breathe and her body felt heavier and heavier with every stride she took. She hadn’t taken any sufficient time to rest after the climb from the pit, nor did she after the arduous walk that followed which took her across the wasteland to the shoreline. She’d had very little choice in the matter; especially in this instance as the men were in pursuit and were gradually closing the gap between them with every step they took. As she ran, she found that she had to regularly brush her long scraggly hair off of her face with her hands, as it would repeatedly be blown into her face by the wind, and would then stick to the sweat gradually building up along her brow. Her feet made a light slapping noise and they beat against the shattered ground; on many occasions the loose stones and rubble would topple underneath her feet, causing her to stumble to the floor; but, she wouldn’t stay down for long because she knew that the men were giving her chase, so she would hastily pick herself up, brush off some of the dust and dirt and would then continue to run for her life.  
  
She didn’t make a habit of turning around often, but when she did; she could see that the men had climbed over the mound with ease, and had started heading straight in her direction. The small group was led by a single man that was wearing a hat and a black cloak; he was relaying various orders and making numerous comments to the others behind him. Two other men followed him close behind; the one to his right was very large in the middle, and would puff in exhaustion as he ran. The other man to the left of the leader was taller than the others, he had a muscular build and it appeared that he didn’t find the running to be any trouble at all. The pair seemed to converse with the leader more than the other two men; that both followed close behind holding the rear.  
  
Suddenly, 66 stumbled as her left foot became wedged between two chunks of broken concrete that were protruding from the ground, causing her to completely loose her balance; she flew over the ground a few meters before she landed, sliding across the jagged debris till she came to a halt; she was faced down, her body felt more broken and exhausted than ever before. She laid there still for a few seconds before shakily bringing her hands up by her shoulders, she rested them firmly against the ground and she pushed herself upwards. Her arms shook vigorously as she tried to lift herself up off the wreckage; blood trickled down her face from the top of her head, working its way down to the tip of her nose, it dripped off the tip onto the floor in front of her, splashing slightly as it fell. She pushed herself back slightly until she was sitting, perched lightly on her knees; her hands shook uncontrollably, as she lifted her right hand to her face, touching where it had fallen. Pulling her hand away from her face, 66 looked in terror as she could see that the red substance that was now spread across the palm of her hand was her blood.  
  
Her bottom lip quivered as she filled with an inconsolable level of terror and fear. Her heart rate rose heavily and her chest tightened with every breath she tried to take in; it became difficult for her to see straight, as her eye sight blurred as she started to feel incredibly faint; her hands and feet fizzled as they rapidly filled with the unwelcome sensation of pins and needles. Her body had become locked firmly in the position she was sat in; forcing her to continue to stare at her blood covered hand held out in front of her face. She gasped deeply as she tried to regain her breath, but she found it difficult to force it in; causing her to make high pitched wheezing sounds when she tried to give her lungs the oxygen it craved. Her eyes became full of tears that overflowed making them trickle down the sides of her face; she didn’t know what was making her so upset, the sight of the blood or the fact that she could feel herself slowly slipping away from the desperate lack of oxygen.  
  
It was hard, but after a couple of unsettling minutes, 66 was able to regain her breath just enough to keep herself conscious. Her heart still pounded inside her fragile chest heavily, so much so it began to hurt her; but she’d overcome the worst of it, whatever it was. The pins and needles in her hands and feet had begun to subside and although her body still shook, it had loosened enough that she was able to place her hand against the floor, removing the blood from her line of sight. As soon as she was able to, she tentatively turned her head around, just enough so she could see behind herself; four of the pursuers had stopped a short distance away from her; however, the one that was leading them was slowly making his way towards her. Her entire body filled with unimaginable terror as she watched in horror as he closed in on her. She tried to move, but not one inch of her body would listen to her. She took in a sharp breath before muttering softly,  
  
‘Please,’  
  
Her eyes once again filled heavily with tears as her body continued to quiver uncontrollably from fear, but regardless of her plea, the man didn’t stop; instead he proceeded to walk closer and closer to her,  
  
‘Please’, she begged him again, but he still did not stop.  
  
66 tried with all her brain power to find the right words to speak, but she had become so frightened, that it was impossible for her to find the right things to say. She closed her eyes as the man drew so close that he was almost within a few feet of her; she managed to lean her weight forwards enough that she lost her balance on her knees, making her fall onto her right side. Desperately, she stretched her arms on the ground in front of her; she clung onto the broken debris in a pointless attempt to drag herself away from him. But, she had lost all her strength; her body had given up and was in no condition anymore to make an escape.  
  
She once again closed her eyes, this time so tightly that the tears burst from her eyes like fireworks, she took in a sharp gasp for air as she cried out hysterically,  
  
‘Please! Don’t hurt me!’  
  
She clung to the ground as tightly as she could, her body was so weak that this was all she could do in order to try and prevent him from grabbing her, taking her away and returning her to the pit. The man removed his hat and gently placed it on the ground a few inches away from her head. He knelt down beside her placing one arm across his knee lightly so it hung loosely off of it, the other reached over and stroked her hair softly; in a sincere voice the man spoke with earnest,  
  
‘Hurt you? I’d never want to do that!’  
  
He continued to stroke her hair as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him; although it was slightly dark and her eyes were blurry from the tears that filled them previously; she could see that he had fairly long, unkempt red hair that was pushed off of his face either side. He had a friendly smile, one 66 had never seen before, it filled her with a strange warm sensation that made her feel safe. His smile was surrounded by a thin goatee that complimented his slightly tan skin; across his left eye were three long and jagged diagonal scars; that started in the centre of his forehead, and carried on over his left eye, before ending halfway down the same side on his cheek. He was wearing a lose fitting white shirt that was only buttoned up half way, exposing the top half of his chest, he was still wearing the black cloak, which sat across his back resting on either side of him.  
  
She didn’t feel as though she was in danger; there was something about his presence that made her feel comfort with him. Was it the tone in his voice? Or maybe the way he was gently stroking her hair? She didn’t know the reason, but for the first time in her life she felt as though she could feel safe with someone. He swiftly removed the cloak from his back and placed it over 66’s body, covering her like a blanket. He stayed by her side still smiling at her; she noticed that this time it was different from the way he’d smiled at her before, the first time it was like an indication of peace but this time she could see that it was more personal to him, like he was content.  
  
It wasn’t before long, 66 found herself feeling drowsy; she had pushed herself far beyond her limits and couldn’t hold on to her consciousness any longer. Her eyes started to close as she gently yawned; she was dubious to allow herself to sleep because she didn’t know for certain whether this man or the men waiting behind him were a danger to her, or if she was able trust them enough to drop her guard and gain some much needed rest. Whilst the man continued to stroke her knotted hair he introduced himself,  
  
‘My name is Shanks, I’m the Captain of a pirate crew, I hope you don’t mind’.  
  
Although she was drowsy and her face had become slightly scrumpled from the tiredness, she responded to his introduction by looking at him bewildered; due to the little interaction she’d had with the outside world, titles and statues were lost on her; she didn’t know the difference between good and bad except that she didn’t like those who would bring harm to her. She rubbed her eye gently against her arm pushing some fallen hair off of her face,  
  
‘What’s a Pirate?’ she asked mumbling into her outstretched arm,  
  
She sounded so innocent when she spoke; because she’d barely spoken though out her short life, her voice was only small and it was slightly husky. Shanks looked at her amused by her response; he was slightly entertained by that fact that she’d never heard the word ‘pirate’ before, he chortled slightly before smiling at her softly,  
  
‘I’m afraid that’s something you’ll have to decide for yourself one day.’ He explained.  
  
Somehow this answer was sufficient enough for 66, who giggled slightly under her breath as she raised her head enough so that he could see the top half of her face; she nodded gently at him, acknowledging his answer. Shanks then poked her gently in the side, tickling her as he did so,  
  
‘What’s your name?’ He enquired.  
  
66 squealed at the weird sensation that spread across her left side from her waist, it didn’t bother her because it didn’t hurt. She looked up so that her entire face was now in Shanks’ view, her smile had spread so far across that it was almost ear to ear, she then looked down at the ground disappointedly, as though something had suddenly bothered her; in a soft voice she spoke,  
  
‘I don’t know,’ she explained, as the smile began to fade from her face, ‘Most of the time people call me ‘66’ I think, but even I know that’s not my real name,’  
  
66 lowered her head to the floor until her forehead was gently rested against it; she’d left enough room between her mouth and the ground so that she could still speak clearly,  
  
‘To be honest, I don’t think I have a name.’  
  
Sighing heavily, Shanks stopped stroking her hair and instead lifted his hand to his face, rubbing it downwards. 66 looked up slightly so that one of her eyes was able to see Shanks passed her arm; she could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t happy with the answer she’d given; she knew her answer was more long-winded than he had asked for, but she didn’t know how else to answer it, she could of made something up but she didn’t have the imagination for that; plus, she would rather be honest about it seeing as she didn’t know him that well.  
  
‘‘That’s not good’, he sighed.  
  
His voice sounded slightly enraged, as though he was talking through his teeth in frustration. 66 started to feel intimidated with his change in emotion; he looked at her, taking note that she had seen his mood shift; in a bid to reassure her, he gave her a comforting half smile. He then proceeded to speak once again, however as if in an instant, his voice became soft once again, as though he’d completely forgotten about the sudden feeling of anger that filled him only moments ago,  
  
‘That’s not good at all’ he sighed again.  
  
He took in a deep intake of air, his nose made a sniffing sound as he did; most probably due to the dust in the air that had made its way in, making the air thicker and it harder for them to breathe. He returned his hand to the back of her head, rubbing it gently as he did so, he chuckled,  
  
‘Beautiful girl like you, without a name huh? Well, I guess I’ll have to give you one then!’ He jeered, turning away from her slightly brimming with enthusiasm,  
  
You could see by the inquisitive look on his face and that hand he had placed on the bottom of his chin, that he was pondering ideas on what to call her. However 66 had, for now, lost interest in the conversation, as her tiredness was becoming harder and harder to fight off with every second they spent talking. She returned her head to the ground so it was some-what comfortable. She had managed to keep herself conscious for longer than she was expecting to, but regardless her body needed her to sleep.  
  
‘Shanks?’ 66 whispered,  
  
Shanks turned back to face her looking surprised, he was so engrossed in the topic of naming her that he’d gone off into his own world for a moment, but 66’s small voice had managed to reel him back into reality. 66 sniffed, she started to fill with sadness as she raised the question that had been playing on her mind for as long as she could remember, her voice quivered as she asked him,  
  
‘Why is this happening to me?’  
  
A lump built up in Shanks’ throat as she hit him with the compelling question, he awkwardly shuffled on the spot a little, and ruffled his hair in his hand. He wasn’t sure on how to answer her, but he decided it was better to tell her the truth, so after he cleared his throat as he answered,  
  
‘Honestly, I don’t know.’ He admitted,  
  
He didn’t want to look at her after giving her such an empty answer, but he cared about what her reaction might have been; sadly as expected, he could see that his answer had had no positive reaction from her; she’d burrowed her head further into her arm, hiding her face completely from his sight. Desperate to comfort her he stopped stroking her hair ad instead placed his hand on her shoulder; he lent in towards her, and with a look of confidence spread across his face, he proclaimed in a firm reassuring voice,  
‘All I know, is that from this moment onwards, you will no longer be a part of any of it, I promise’  
  
66 completely revealed her face from underneath her arm; she looked at him optimistically as her eyes began to flood with tears to excitement and relief. She could see it in his eyes, he wasn’t lying. For the first time in her life, she knew she could trust someone, and know it in her heart that he would keep that promise. After taking a moment, she once again whispered to him,  
  
‘Shanks?’  
  
‘Yer?’ He replied,  
  
The softness in his voice matched the quiet huskiness of hers; she placed her head on the floor a final time before tucking her nose underneath his cloak. She closed her eyes as she sighed softly, before she drifted off to sleep she spoke once last time,  
  
‘Thank you’.  
  
After a few short minutes, Shanks placed his hand gently on her head once again, this time to see if she was awake; sure enough, the exhaustion had caught up with her and she had fallen into a deep sleep. He chuckled to himself silently, bringing his hat from the floor back to his head; he wrapped 66 into the cloak tighter, so she was wrapped in it like a worm. He then gently scooped her up off of the floor into his arms, slowly lifting her off of the cold and broken floor. After getting to his feet Shanks took a moment to access just how serious 66’s condition was; she wheezed slightly as she slept and her body was so emaciated that her bones could be felt even through his cloak. She had several bruises and scratch marks across her neck and face, and no doubt across her entire body as well. Holding her was effortless as she couldn’t have even weighed twenty pounds; it felt as though he was holding nothing at all. And yet, her face was so still and peaceful while she slept, beneath all the blemishes, she looked as flawless as a porcelain doll; she truly was a picture of innocence.  
  
Whilst carrying 66, he made his way over to the others that he had left patiently waiting a short distance away from them; as soon as he was within a few meters of them, he looked at the group with disappointment,  
  
‘It’s not here’ Shanks told them,  
  
His voice was blunt and to the point. All the men nodded at him obediently, before slowly starting to head back towards the shore with their heads down; one of the men at the back kicked the ground in frustration. The tallest man didn’t move and remained stood next to Shanks, who had also yet to start walking. He was at least a foot taller, and his build was far more muscular than his Captains; he had long black hair that was slicked back into a ponytail, that he’d tied at the back of his head; he had a thin cigarette that hung out of the corner of his mouth, it bounced lightly against his bottom lip as he spoke,  
  
‘Who we got ‘ere then?’ He enquired,  
  
Shanks didn’t look at him, his focus had once again become fixated on 66, who was still sleeping soundly in his arms; he pulled her into him, so that she was held as close to him as he could make her. He squeezed her gently,  
  
‘They call her 66, or at least that’s what she told me’ Shanks answered,  
  
His voice was once again filled with anger at the topic, as though her name itself made him angry. His crew mate looked over at 66,  
  
‘I see, so that’s what you meant’ he replied.  
  
Both men stood for a moment just gazing at her while she slept, before the taller man addressed Shanks bluntly,  
  
‘So what you wana do Boss?’  
  
‘I don’t know Beckman,’ Shanks sighed, ‘But, I’ve made her a promise, and I intend to keep that promise no matter what’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG Thank You to Zoey, Rachelle and Aniinna!


	4. Freedom At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After escaping the Pit and running from what she learnt to be a pirate by the name of Shanks, 5-year-old 66 fell unconscious from exhaustion. After sleeping continuously for three days, she is about to wake up on board a pirate ship that belongs to the Red-Hair Pirates. Can she trust them? Or will she fall back into the clutches of the Pit, once again forced into being a part of the Mercury Project. Read on to find out...

\- [4] -

As the waves broke gently against the bow of the ship, a thin mist of sea water sprayed into the air; landing on the faces of the romance fuelled crew members that gazed out from the sides of the ship, admiring the beauty of the open ocean. Among them was a small group of five men all aged around thirty, they’d sat themselves cross legged in a circle; with a wooden crate between them they quietly smoked cigars whilst playing a seemingly intense game of poker. Across from them, another group of men that were slightly younger than the five playing cards, had congregated at the bottom of a wooden staircase located in the centre of the main deck, they were merrily drinking endless rounds of sake while they shared stories with one another from their travels, achievements and the occasional topic of women would be thrown into the mix. Throughout the ship various crew members were enjoying each other’s company, either singing along to the musician’s whimsical set or engaging in various drinking games.  
  
Amongst all the merriment however, tucked away at the back of the ship; wrapped in a feather duvet that was several times bigger than she was, 66 quietly slept. She was sleeping on a double bed that was placed against the back wall in the centre of the room, either side of the bed was a wooden side table, each holding a lamp and a photo frame; one had a photograph of a man standing behind two teenage boys, the man had slicked back blond hair, a deep scar across his right eye, and round glasses. One of the teenagers was a younger Shanks, you could see that by the scruffy red hair and straw hat he donned, both he and the man were laughing together, whilst the other boy had a round nose and an angry scowl across his face, he was turned away from Shanks, however, Shanks’ left arm was wrapped around his neck keeping him in the photo. The other photo frame was blank, and had yet to have a photograph put into it. The rest of the room was simple; a dark wood wardrobe in the far corner, and a small round table sat next to it with a potted fern sitting atop, a red woven rug lay across the floor separating the bed and the furniture. On the other side was a wooden stool placed in the corner as well as a dark leather chez lounge, positioned conveniently below and red draped window with a wooden frame, which looked out onto the ocean. The walls were covered in wooden panels that had a beautiful Moroccan style pattern carved into every third panel and a dark hard-wood floor to tie it all together.  
  
It had been three days since leaving Yoku Island; the island where 66 had been living throughout her short life so far, and she had remained asleep on board the ship ever since. She had received the much needed medical treatment she required from the ship’s doctor Daisuke, a fifty-year-old ex-marine medic. He stood at a mere 4 foot, and was the shortest of all the men aboard, he had scraggly white hair that he’d loosely tied into a knot at the back of his head; it was long reaching down to his waist, he had a wide slightly creepy grin with only five teeth, which was accompanied by a bushy white beard that was covered in bread crumbs from his breakfast; he wore large bottle lensed glasses, that repeatedly slipped off the tip of his nose whenever he looked down; he was wearing a large, unbuttoned, knee length, white lab coat, with a black t-shirt underneath with the kanji symbol for the word ‘red’ written on the front in red ink.  
  
He shuffled his feet softly along the floor as he made his way into the room through the door across from where she slept, and continued until he was at 66’s bedside; after she’d received a much needed bath, they could see that beneath the filth and mud, she had long wavy hair that reached down to her waist that fell into loose curls and ringlets. Its colour was a deep red that was only slightly darker than Shanks’ which paid compliment to her pale skin. As Daisuke reached her bedside he saw that 66 had tucked herself so far underneath the duvet, that only the top of her head as well as all her long hair was could be seen from beneath it; her hair looked like a wild-fire as it had spread messily across her pillow. Daisuke, carefully rested a metal tray that he’d been carrying, onto the bedside table next to where 66 was sleeping soundly. On the tray he’d placed a pair of rubber gloves, a plastic cup with some water in it, a small pot with three yellow and green pills inside it, a scalpel and a syringe that had already been filled with a pale pink liquid. He turned to face the bed gently lifting the covers off of her; he could see that she’d curled herself into a tight ball underneath the covers, something she’d grown used to doing all this time to keep warm. The bed was very large and could comfortably sleep at most three people, but she’d curled herself up so tightly, that she barely took up the corner. Grabbing the stool from the corner of the room, Daisuke wobbled as he jumped onto it, the wood creaked as he adjusted himself on the stool before he continued. 66’s arms were tucked into her, so Daisuke had to carefully pull one of her arms so that he could give her an injection; he did this with ease as 66 was so deeply sleeping. After resting her arm across his lap he slipped the gloves onto each hand, letting go of them from a distance so that they made a snapping sound as they impacted against his wrist. He twiddled his fingers and picked up the syringe, pointing it at the ceiling; he squirted out a small amount of its contents that sprayed out the top of the needle before landing on the floor. He then lowered it down, pointing it at 66’s outstretched arm; but in that moment, just as he was about to piece her skin, 66 shot up out of the bed, grabbing the scalpel off of the tray as she did so.  
  
‘What the Hell!?’ Daisuke yelped,  
  
The shock made him fall back off of his seat, landing on the floor with a heavy thud; his glasses slipped off his face landing onto the floor with a clink. 66 darted across the room, pinning her back to the wall next to the window, opposite where Daisuke was now sat, rubbing his rear. Shakily, 66 pointed the scalpel at him baring her teeth,  
  
‘Don’t move!’ She ordered,  
  
Her voice trembled as she spoke, her face showed and array of emotion as she wanted to appear threatening but she was also very afraid. Daisuke, still on the floor, picked up his glasses wiping them with the bottom of his lab coat, before returning them to his face. With a grunt, he clambered back onto his feet; once again wobbling in the process, and reached into his pocket. In his hand he held a snail with a red shell; he lifted the snail to his face and readied to speak, however 66 stopped him before he could,  
  
‘I said don’t move!’ 66 shrieked,  
  
‘What’re you guna to do wit’ that you little snot!’ He jeered, his voice was hoarse and very nasally, ‘you guna stab me or sumin?’ He laughed, ‘ha! You wish! Just take a look at yourself, ain't no way you could do anything looking like that!’  
  
He was right, 66 looked over herself; she was wrapped up almost head to toe in bandages like a mummy; all her arms and legs was covered as well as the majority of her torso, she also had one wrapped around her forehead most likely covering her injury from her fall previously. She’d only just woken up, but she could already feel the exhaustion from just getting out of bed starting to take its toll on her, there was no way she could fight him off if he attacked her. But, she didn't lower her arms however, they were still firmly held out in front of her, pointing the scalpel at Daisuke across from her. Seeing that she wasn't going to back down, Daisuke placed the snail onto the bedside table, however unknown to 66, it was a snail phone, and he had connected the line. His glasses had starting slipping down his nose, so he pushed it back up with his thumb, before he started to slowly walk towards her, holding out his hands to her as an indication of peace; however, 66 was too afraid of him to back down. She affirmed her grip of the scalpel, jabbing it slightly at Daisuke who was still making his way slowly towards her,  
  
‘Stop! Stay where you are!’ She cried out,  
  
Her eyes started filling with tears as she became more and more scared of him, he was slowly closing the gap between them; and, although she felt threatened, she didn't want to hurt him. But in a sudden flash, Daisuke had shot straight in front of her, he had moved so fast that she didn't even seen him move his feet; he’d closed the gap between them entirely. He grabbed tightly onto her arms as she held the scalpel, he held them firmly so that she was unable to pull them away. She struggled desperately as she tried with all her might to pry his bony, liver spotted hands off her arms, she held tightly onto the scalpel but there was very little she could do now that he had hold of her.  
  
‘LET ME GO!’ She screamed pulling her arms away,  
  
And, as if by magic, her arms slipped out of his hands freeing her; however, Daisuke hadn't let go; his hands closed into tight fists as she had somehow managed to pass her arms through his hands. He looked at her stunned; 66 looked briefly over herself, before quickly clenching her hands tightly around the scalpel once again, affirming her grip and pointing it out at Daisuke’s face, seeming to have completely dismissed what had just happened,  
  
‘Where’s Shanks?’ she ejaculated,  
  
Daisuke’s lip quivered slightly as he pondered over his response, he pushed his glasses up his nose with his thumb before mumbling to himself again. He turned away from her and headed towards the side table he’d placed the snail phone onto; and after a few seconds, he looked up at the snail phone as he spoke,  
  
‘Hey Boss? The kid wants to see ya’ ’,  
  
66 looked at him confused, had others been listening? Was the room being monitored? She looked around cautiously, searching for cameras, or other forms of monitoring devices; she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, however, she had very little understanding of what ‘ordinary’ really was. After only a short time the door leading out of the room slowly opened with a high pitched creak; 66 was still standing next to the window, so the door opened towards her, she could see the faint shadow of a figure forming from behind the frosted glass window in the door. Moments later, a shabby red-haired Shanks poked his head around the door, before slightly stumbling as he walked the rest of himself into the room; he looked tired and hung over, his hair was more unkempt than before and he had a small line of drool hanging out of the corner of his mouth; it was clear to see that he had just recently woken up. He was dressed in dark green knee length shorts, an unbuttoned white shirt with the sleeves loosely rolled up, and his straw hat was tied to his waist with a small piece of string. Closing the door behind him, Shanks proceeded to yawn widely before casually walking over to 66 brushing his feet against the floor. By this point, 66 was feeling more and more disorientated than ever before by the whole situation. Shanks crouched down in front of her, so that he was at the same level as she was, he positioned himself so that the scalpel she still had pointed at Daisuke, was a mere inch away from his nose. Looking her in the eye, it was clear he was still drowsy from the night before so his face was half asleep, but the look he gave her was both stern and yet somewhat comforting; after squeezing out a small smile as he put his left hand out to her and in a calm and friendly voice he asked,  
  
‘Can I have that please?’  
  
66 turned the scalpel away from Shanks’ face so that it was pointed over his shoulder and was once again pointed at an unimpressed Daisuke, who was standing behind Shanks across the room from them. It was clear Shanks wasn't intimidated at all by the item she held, but he didn't want her to continue holding onto it either. It was a leap of faith, either hand the scalpel over to Shanks, resulting in her either; being subjugated to the same torture as before, or being given the freedom that she has sought after for the entirety of her life. Or, on the other hand; if she chose to fight, she would have to face an unknown number of enemies that could actually be her allies, but by attacking she could endanger her chances of freedom; either way she knew she had to make a decision. She trembled slightly as she cautiously started to lower the scalpel away from Daisuke, and down towards Shanks’ opened hand. She looked back at Shanks, his face had started to wake up more as his eyes were almost completely open, by this point she could see that he had warm brown eyes, they were soft and full of sincerity, however, they also had seriousness to them as well. 66 looked back at Daisuke, who was still stood in the same place; he was staring at them with a discomforting scowl spread across his face, his glasses were slipping off of his nose again, however he quickly pushed them back with his thumb. She then looked back at Shanks, who was now looking at scalpel that was now only a few inches from being placed into his hand.  
  
66 took in a deep breath and she decided to put it into Shanks’ hand; she placed her trembling hand against his palm, her hand still clamped firmly around the scalpel, slowly Shanks closed his hand around both the scalpel and her hand; and started gently stroking the back of her tiny fingers with his thumb; his hand was warm and his skin was soft. Unsure on what was going to happen next, tears began to roll down 66’s cheeks as she became over whelmed with upset; she thought she’d been saved, she thought she’d no longer be somebodies property to hurt as they please. But, as soon as she woke up, she was lying in a bed with a man in a white coat pointing a needle at her arm. She felt so conflicted, Shanks seemed so kind and so genuine, but she didn't feel safe with him any more because she couldn't trust him, and she didn't know if there was any reason to either. She felt so broken inside and betrayed; as she rubbed her eyes with her free hand, Shanks smile disappeared and turned into a slightly confused expression that showed across his entire face,  
  
‘You brought me here didn't you?’ She sobbed.  
  
‘Yes I did,’ Shanks replied, ‘this is my ship; the rowdy group of misfits out there are my crew and the creep with the glasses over there is our doctor Daisuke, but don’t worry he’s friendly… most of the time’.  
  
‘You said you’d make it stop! You promised… You said I would no longer be a part of it, but… you lied! You’re just like the others aren't you? You’re a lair… Your doctors and your crew, you all just want to hurt me don’t you?’  
  
‘I made you a promise three days ago that, you will no longer be a part of any of it, regarding what was happening on that island. I never said anything about what would happen to you once you were here on board my ship.’ Shanks replied in as stern voice.  
  
He was right, at no point had he said that the pain would stop, nor would the endless days of torture seize to exist; she felt like such a fool, but what choice did she have? Her body was too weak to fight and there was nothing she could do about it. She continued to sob gently, looking down at the wooden floor; the room fell silent and all that could be heard was the muffled sounds from the deck of the rowdy crew on board, as well as the soft creaking of the walls, as the ship swayed gently with the waves. As she cried, Shanks stretched out his left arm away from them dropping the scalpel onto the floor, it made a small clinking sound as it hit against the wood. He then placed the same hand on top of 66’s head, rubbing it gently, before sliding his hand down to the side of her face, resting it against her left cheek and stroking away the tears with his thumb, he leaned in so that his face was close to hers and so that he could look her straight in the eye. 66 looked up so that her eyes met his; he was smiling again,  
  
‘If I promised you you’d receive nothing from a doctor, then you wouldn't have been be able to receive the proper treatment that you needed in order to get better.’  
  
Taken in by the kindness of his words, 66 began crying tears of happiness as she leapt forward, wrapping her arms around Shanks’ neck; she held onto him so tightly with no intention of ever letting go; she could feel the warmth of his body, she could smell the stale booze and sweat left over from the night before, his scraggly hair even tickled the tip of her nose too, but none of it deterred her from holding onto him. It wasn't before long when 66 felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist, squeezing her gently, pulling her closer to him as he hugged her back. She’d never had this kind of contact with another person before, it was nice; this was the greatest feeling she’d ever felt, and she never wanted it to end.  
  
After a moment that felt like forever, Shanks pulled himself away slowly; he placed both his hands on her shoulders and beamed at her.  
  
‘Now then, how about we go introduce you to the rest of the crew, they’re all dying to meet you.’  
  
Unsure on what was to come, 66 decided to place her trust in Shanks, and smiled with a nod in reply. Shanks then stood up and turned to face Daisuke; he was still standing away from them with the same scowl slapped across his face,  
  
‘Daisuke, would it be any trouble for you if I took Bella out for a walk?’  
  
Realising this was the first time hearing her being referred to as anything other than ‘66’, Shanks turned back to look at her, and as he had predicted, she had heard him refer to her as such and she was staring up at him inquisitively,  
  
‘I don’t give a crap! I ain't no paediatrician!’ Daisuke snorted.  
  
Ignoring Daisuke’s rude response, Shanks once again rubbed the top of 66’s head; she giggled sweetly as she ducked her head down,  
  
‘I hope you don’t mind it, but the guys and I came up with a new name for you, seeing as how ‘66’ wasn't exactly ideal.’  
  
Shanks started acting like a little school boy, shy and awkward, as he jumped down onto the floor crossing his legs and grabbing onto his feet. 66 or ‘Bella’, plopped down onto the floor as well, ready to listen to what Shanks had next to say, scratching the side of his face with his index finger he continued,  
  
‘So, the guys wanted to call you either Akai or Rouge; but I told them it’d be weird since I knew someone that was called Rouge and people already call me Red-Hair, which meant that Akai was a no. They seemed to be rather fixated on the whole ‘red’ theme because they started to come up with things like, Rose or Poppy; but I didn't want to name you after a flower, or something red. So that’s when I came up with… and this is just a suggestion, Isabella… but I’d prefer to call you Bella, because in some languages ‘bella’ or ‘belle’ means beautiful, which we all agree that you are’, he chuckled under his breath, ‘so… what do you think? Do you like it? Bella I mean, after all, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, right?’  
  
66 looked at him lost; he’d said so much so quickly it was difficult to keep up with him; however she quickly broke into a giggle as she smiled politely at him.  
  
‘You’re so weird!’ She chuckled, ‘But I like it’.  
  
An elated Shanks sprung up onto his feet, grabbing onto Bella under her arms as he did so, lifting her high up off of the floor. Her hair flew about like a sheet of silk blowing in the wind before coming to a rest against her white night dress, holding her up with his arms stretched out, he looked at her peacefully. She giggled once more as her bandaged covered feet dangled several feet off of the floor; although she was still almost head to toe in bandages, her smile illuminated through all the pain and suffering that she might have been feeling at the time. This made Shanks feel happy, because that beautiful smile spread across her face from cheek to cheek was because of his actions; and in that moment he felt a connection to her, one that he’d never felt so strongly before; an unconditional desire to protect her.


End file.
